Seconday, 27 First Winter

2899 Tranquil Era

Malou had to admit that it was nice to not be alone. Nice to see someone else first thing in the morning and right before going to bed. Nice to have someone to just be around, even if they weren’t always talking. Nice to say goodbye to someone when she left in the morning and hear someone say it back.

Of course, she’d never tell Gavriel any of that since he would just be annoying about it. When she’d woken yesterday morning with a mean hangover, he’d been sitting next to her on the bed with a shit-eating grin on his face. He’d handed her a glass of water, a painkiller, and asked if she still wanted him to stay now that she was mostly sober.

She’d almost said no just to spite him. Instead, setting up Laure to tap all Zeynel’s calls nearly took two sleepless nights’ worth of work because she could only work on it after he’d turned in. She would’ve been able to finish sooner without him there. She hadn’t learned a single important thing yet, either, so she had to hope she hadn’t missed anything those first two days.

Honestly, she’d thought he would’ve been gone more. Gavriel disappeared once or twice a week at night for a few hours. Sometimes during the day, too, though only for a half-hour or so. Before it’d been more like once a month—maybe two or three years ago. He’d stopped briefly after her dad died, too, but when he started again, Malou had figured it had something to do with all the times her father had left at night with him.

Gavriel never said anything about it, so she figured he didn’t want to talk about it with her. Since she had her secrets, too, she’d decided not to pry. Easier that way. They were already too close.

During exam week, campus hummed with activity rather than buzzed. Fewer professors in the commons, even fewer students walking around campus. While Gavriel had an early exam today, Malou had her work-study. Not with Zeynel—when he’d fired her as his messenger, he’d also reassigned her work-study. However, instead of punting her off to some random professor looking for a paper pusher, he’d given her to his mother.

Malou had no complaints about working with the Premier since it made the task of figuring out what Zeynel was keeping from her much easier. Premier Casals had access to her son’s calendar, for example, which meant Malou knew the two of them had a consultation call with the Prime Minister today. Experience told her Zeynel would probably have a new messenger ready to deliver a letter right after, too.

That bastard really thought Malou had let him get away all this time with not telling her the truth simply because she couldn’t find it herself? She’d just wanted to hear it from him. She wasn’t waiting any longer.

Malou’s steps echoed up the three flights of stairs to the Premier and Vice-Premier’s joint offices. Behind the giant doors, Premier Casals snored in one of the chaise longue by the fireplace.

Leaning toward Premier Casals’s ear, Malou gently called her name.

“Five more minutes,” the premier mumbled, batting a hand at Malou. Then her head jerked from its rest on her shoulder, seeming to understand that she needed to wake up. Her gray eyes lifted to Malou’s excited and hopeful. “Did I miss it?”

“Not quite. Few minutes to spare.”

Her expression contorted into a hard grimace. “Damn. That’s a shame.” She released a grumble and reached toward Malou. “My dear, would you mind giving me a little help? These bones are old. One wrong move and I’ll be on the damn floor, and I hate it when that happens.”

With a proper tug, Premier Casals was on her feet. As she stretched, her back cracked. She flinched, then smoothed a palm down the front of her silk academic robes. She’d dressed up for the call. “I wanted to have you take my place in these meaningless calls with the Prime Minister. Consultation?” She scoffed. “My ass. I’d rather nap.”

“Nap then,” Malou said as she took the premier’s elbow and escorted her toward her west corridor office, “but then Zeynel wouldn’t let you do again for a month.”

“Worth it, probably.” Premier Casals opened the door to her bright, spacious office with her silver and gestured Malou to go in. “Get some studying done, love. Feel free to work in the library if that’d be easier for you, just leave me a note.” With that, she patted Malou’s cheek, flashed a smile, and trotted along to the conference room.

Malou sat behind Premier Casals’s desk. Zeynel had been truly shortsighted if he’d thought his mother was going to give her actual work. Part of her wondered if he’d assigned her to Premier Casals fully knowing she’d use the opportunity to uncover his secrets, but what did that matter if she didn’t actually uncover anything?

Perhaps that was the message he wanted to send—that he had nothing to hide or otherwise he would’ve assigned her elsewhere. If he’d cut her off like this before a few nights ago, she might’ve thought that. Maybe she wouldn’t have programmed Laure over the last two nights to set up an untraceable tap—a trick Zeynel had taught her—on all his calls and automatically record them.

In her ear, Laure said, “Their call just started. Would you like to listen in?”

“Yes and send the transcription to me after.”

“You’re going to make me do all that even though your code is about as graceful as a wolverine?” Laure asked. “Did you learn nothing from your father? Promise me you’ll clean it up later.”

Malou groaned. She didn’t know how his code was any more graceful than hers; they’d mostly made the language together and she didn’t use it any differently than he had. Or so she thought. “Only for you. The call?”

A moment of silence followed, and then Zeynel’s rough voice was asking, “What do you want?” Always so blunt.

Malou listened to their normal formalities. She recognized the voice of Premier Casals’ sister, who was the Premier of Estravenza University, as well as her son, who was Estravenza's Vice-Premier. Zeynel had no love for his cousin but quite a lot of animosity. They asked how the other was doing—everyone was quite well. The Vice-Premier of Estravenza asked if Tousieux’s students were prepared for their final exams.

“Of course,” Premier Casals answered with a chuckle and, surely, a sharp smirk. Her sister let out a loud, rich laugh. They always had an enjoyable time on calls together, even if everyone else hated every minute.

Zeynel remained quiet, and Malou pictured the disinterest in his gaze as they all maintained their thin veneer of civility. The whole conversation brought her back to Aunt Amandine’s inauguration. Back then, her mother had been more interested in who wasn’t in attendance than who was.

“Who’s on the call with them?” she asked Laure.

“Premier Nuria Casals, Vice-Premier Kåre en von Winther, and Commander Fiorenza Nunziata.”

This wasn’t a boring consultation call with the Prime Minister at all—she wasn’t even on the call. Finally, something worthwhile.

Malou’s fists clenched for a moment, then she logged into the university’s system with a swipe of her silver. The screen on the desk awakened with a gentle glow, welcoming her back before bringing up the chaos of her personal home screen. She pulled up the feed and searched for the commander’s name. Only a handful of articles came up, all recent.

The oldest of the articles was about the woman following her parents, both highly decorated officers from the southern district of Travorno, into the Crowned Navy like her older brother. One article detailed her promotion to Commander of the Sea Legions, the primary special operations force of the Crowned Navy predominately consisting of convicts that served to safeguard vital trade routes from pirates. The most recent article covered the new team of Sea Legions she commanded that operated directly under the Special Operations Command and specialized in counterterrorism.

Either Commander Nunziata was seeking consultation from Tousieux University and Estravenza University under the advisement of the Prime Minister, or the sister universities were seeking consultation from the Crowned Navy through the Prime Minister’s influence. Neither seemed like something to celebrate.

Malou wished her mother’s warning didn’t echo so loudly in her mind.

“Enough,” Zeynel said after an annoyed grunt. “I don’t have the sort of time to listen to you lot go on with your pointless prattle. Commander, you wanted to talk about the Libertines. Talk. You would like our help? Our resources, you said. Please enlighten me. What resources were you referencing?”

Malou sat back in the premier’s chair, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Commander Nunziata’s request could be referring to anything from information technology and artificial intelligence research to sentry guns and gladiators—large, piloted humanoid bipedal robots. Both universities had plenty of resources the military could use against a so-called network of criminals like the Libertines, not just the Teir.

“First, I would like to discuss the Libertines,” Commander Nunziata said. Dodging his question wouldn’t work well for her, but this woman had little idea. For the better. “We have received intelligence that the Libertines are planning a military assault at either the Old Palace or the Palace of the Parliament, maybe possibly both. We do not know when the attack will happen, but we do know it will cost the lives of many people who are dedicated to serving the empire. The Libertines are a threat to national security, and it is time to stop them. Therefore, we are asking for your help now.”

The government wanted people to believe the Libertines were nothing but a bunch of criminals parading around with stolen money and equipment rather than a highly organized militant political activist group. The government-sponsored news reported—week after week—how some unnamed security industry expert at some unnamed university or research center didn’t consider them anything more than an annoyance. All paid propagandists, most likely.

The Libertines were most definitely a threat, and an attack on the Old Palace, where the Crowned Consul and his extended family lived, or the Palace of the Parliament would send that message quite clearly.

“You do seem to be having trouble with that brand of criminal activism,” the Vice-Premier of Estravenza said, a charming purr to his voice. “Certainly, you’re not afraid.”

“Afraid, no,” Commander Nunziata said. “We intend to destroy them as soon as possible, as swiftly as possible, and as quietly as possible. For this reason, we are requesting Tousieux University’s cooperation. We would like temporary use of the Teir.”

Malou was on her feet before she even realized it. She started pacing, circling the desk as her mind worked out the implications of what she’d just heard. The Second Revern Empire considered the Libertines threat enough to make them a target. Likely they’d been having so much trouble neutralizing them—by surveilling, infiltrating, undermining, incriminating, discrediting, and criminalizing them in any conceivable way—that the Teir seemed to be their only option.

On the one hand, perhaps the empire was requesting to use the Teir as a first step. They were desperate, though. Desperate enough to set up a call using the Prime Minister’s authority with the newest commander of the Sea Legions. Desperate enough to request using the Teir.

“Really? Our cooperation?” Zeynel asked, an amused rasp in his voice. One that meant he knew she wanted no such thing.

Because on the other hand, perhaps the empire had exhausted all other methods of obtaining the Teir. Malou had watched what Laure recorded of Brosch’s death. His murderers were trained professionals on a mission. While she couldn’t rule out they could’ve been Libertines, it seemed likely now that they had been sent by the empire.

What if the empire was behind Professor Brosch’s death?

If the empire was behind Professor Brosch’s death and Zeynel knew that, then they had already proven to him they weren’t interested in cooperation as much as compliance. What if they were behind the disappearance of the other professors in the Blind Collective as well? What if they were also responsible for her father’s death?

“Cooperation, yes,” the commander said, but she had to be lying. “The sooner we can contain the Libertines, the sooner we can return Revern to the peaceful empire our founder envisioned.”

“Ah,” the Vice-Premier of Estravenza University drew. He always did that and flashed a handsome smile before he said something unkind. “Well, would you kindly explore for a second how you plan to use it? This is a device for war, not getting rid of your criminal population. After all, they’ve proven useful in your Navy, have they not?”

Malou sat back in the premier’s chair as it struck her that neither Zeynel nor his Estravenza counterpart and cousin Kåre seemed the least bit surprised or concerned. More likely than not, the four of them knew how they wanted to respond to the request but were pretending to weigh their options to buy time. But it wasn’t as if they had many options when the empire would only continue to ask for it, continue to murder for it until they had it in their possession.

“I thought I was making myself clear,” Commander Nunziata said a little too pleasantly. “We would like to run a few comparative analyses of their network’s activities—including the armed assaults, the cyberattacks, the bank robberies, the assassinations, and the kidnappings—with other terrorist organizations to predict their movements. Once we know what their plan is for the Old Palace or the Palace of the Parliament, we will use their attack to attack them instead.”

“That can’t be all,” Zeynel said, and Malou sucked in a long breath. All this time, he’d shuffled half the Teir from professor to professor, sacrificing people he called friends and colleagues because he could do nothing but keep it hidden until Revern succeeded in finding it or finally lost interest. “What else?”

“After the Libertines have been taken care of,” the commander said, voice calm as if she believed she’d been truly convincing, “we can discuss what other purpose the Teir can serve the Second Revern Empire.”

Malou still couldn’t see a reason not to tell her what was happening all this time. Zeynel hadn’t been protecting her from anything. Armed with this knowledge, she could only be more helpful to him. Now it felt like it was too late to do anything.

Maybe what he was protecting her from was feeling disappointed in him for handing over her father’s legacy to his murderers. Perhaps he’d wanted to protect her from feeling this crushing hopelessness that nothing was going to be the same once the Teir was in the hands of the empire.

“Well, if that’s the case.” Zeynel scoffed. He had no other choices at this point, but she didn’t want to hear him say it. “No.”

What?

“I’m prepared to give you a little more time to think about your answer,” Commander Nunziata said over Vice-Premier Kåre’s chuckle. “Your refusal to cooperate may signal a significant shift away from our long-standing partnership between the empire and Tousieux University.”

“I said no. Never. And if that’s all you wanted, this call’s over.”

He couldn’t just tell them no, could he?

“We’ve received intelligence, for example,” the commander said, an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before, “that Libertines are hiding at Tousieux University. Should you refuse our request, we’ll be forced to reinterpret that information—”

A length of silence followed, and Malou’s mind raced. “What happened, Laure?”

“Vice-Premier Casals ended the call,” she said. “Rather rude, don’t you think? The commander was mid-sentence.”

“Sometimes being rude is the only response,” Malou said, her mind repeating what Commander Nunziata had just revealed.

Rather than the Libertines hiding at Tousieux University, it would be just as easy to assume they were being hidden by the university instead. That was the commander’s threat: if the university didn’t cooperate in eliminating the Libertines, then they would be seen as sheltering them.

First, Commander Nunziata was on the call instead of the Prime Minister. That was important because she commanded a team of Sea Legions specializing in counterterrorism. She began the call by describing the Libertines as terrorists that were currently planning an assault on the government. Then she offered a false choice: either cooperate with the empire by allowing them to use the Teir—possibly indefinitely—or be seen as harboring terrorists. This gave the commander and her legionnaires reason to seize the Teir anyway.

Or at least it did since Zeynel had said no. What she needed to know now was when he thought they’d come. Experience as Zeynel’s messenger taught Malou that he wouldn’t waste much time debriefing with his mother. He’d march straight to his office and jot down a message for someone in his secret society. Her replacement was waiting for him already.

“Message Premier Casals the following…” Malou logged out of the screen and headed out of the office. “I’m going to the library to study before my exam. Thanks for the extra time. Love you.”

“Sent,” Laure said. “Heartwarming.”

The meeting door’s room creaked as she turned the corner into the waiting room. That was probably Zeynel leaving for his office. With a wave to the secretary, she hurried out, but not without noticing a girl who looked barely eighteen with light brown skin and big brown eyes waiting awkwardly by the chaises longue.

When Malou slipped into the hall, she closed the door and stepped to the side. Five minutes later, Zeynel’s new slender wisp of a messenger jumped into the hall and slammed the door closed. With her head down and her bottom lip pinched under her front teeth, she hurried toward the stairs.

“Excuse me,” Malou called to her. Part of her felt dishonest for what she was about to do, but there was no other way to read his message. She prepared her nicest smile. “You’re Vice-Premier Casals’s new messenger, right? I’m Malou Lamaire. I was his messenger before. I thought maybe I could help you out for the first few days. Show you some tricks.”

The girl stopped in her tracks, her shoulders near her ears. Slowly, she pivoted to face Malou and gave a curt bow. The message was in her hand. Breathlessly, she said, “Everyone knows who you are. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Rupa van Rossum. I’m honored to be Vice-Premier Casals’s new work-study, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Like Malou had? She wondered what Zeynel had told the girl about why he needed a new work-study. She returned a quick bow. “It’s nice to meet you, too. If he chose you, that means he knows you’ll do what it takes to get the job done. You probably don’t need my help at all, but I wanted to offer.”

This was a risk, but if Rupa refused, Malou could use Laure to track her around campus and figure out who the message was for at least. Then track them after if necessary.

Rupa’s face brightened, and she stepped closer to Malou. “Would you be willing to help me with this first one? It’s for Professor Haddou. I just thought I’d take it to her office. But she did just retire…”

“I think she’s still on campus,” Malou said, gesturing to Rupa to follow her down the stairs to the first floor. Maybe Haddou didn’t know she’d been fired. “Her office should be fine, but her residence would be better. I can show you a shortcut though.”

“A shortcut? There are shortcuts on campus?” Rupa frowned, watching her feet fall on each step as if she were afraid to miss one. She was quite expressive— her smiles were wide, and her frowns were deep.

“Better than that, really.” At the bottom of the stairs, Malou directed Rupa down the east wing and a door hidden in the wood-paneled walls. She never used it because if she was seen entering Casals Hall, she made sure she was seen leaving as well. “There’s a network of tunnels underground. They’re the only way to get around without being seen by the security cameras.”

“Wow,” Rupa said, an awed lilt in her voice. “I never knew.”

“Few people do. That’s why they’re good to use.” Malou went straight to the door, revealing an old elevator. She held it open and gestured the girl in. “I’ll show you how to get to Haddou’s residence from here.”

“Really?” Rupa gave a big, toothy smile and stepped into a corner. “Thank you. I’ll promise to remember the way, so you don’t have to show me again.”

“It’s fine if you don’t.” Feeling a tinge of guilt for using such a nice girl, Malou followed her into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement. It was like she was conning Elodie. “I’ll give you a tour and draw you up a map.”

Rupa beamed as the hallway disappeared between the doors. “You’re too kind.”

Debatable.

After the elevator descended, Malou took out her rodona light and showed Rupa through the secret passageways that held so many memories of her and Gavriel running around trying to discover what felt like an unending underground labyrinth when they were younger. Rupa followed easily, chattering about how excited she was for the opportunity to work with the vice-premier. Malou held her tongue.

When they arrived at the closest building to Lussier that connected to the tunnels, Malou showed the girl to a ladder that led up to a door hidden in the dirt-covered concrete of the basement. From there, they headed straight to Lussier, up to the second floor, down the west wing, to a door labeled with the professor’s last name.

Rupa knocked hesitantly. Uneasiness fluttered in Malou’s stomach. Would this work?

“Go away!” Haddou shouted from inside. “I’m retired for fuck’s sake!”

Rupa bit her lip and looked at Malou for what to do. Why did Haddou have to be grumpy all the time? Suddenly the idea of asking Haddou about the message sounded terribly stupid, but short of stealing it, there weren’t many options left. This was too important.

Malou stepped up to the door and knocked harder. “Professor Haddou, we’ll only take a moment of your time. It’s Malou Lamaire and the vice-premier’s new work-study.”

Several seconds passed, all while worry sank deeper into Rupa’s features. Then footsteps stopped on the other side of the door. Professor Haddou opened it wearing an elegant Jadaali kaftan. She had a cigar in hand, and she took a long draw as she studied Malou and Rupa.

“Thank you, professor,” Rupa said, bowing deeply and presenting Zeynel’s letter to her with both hands. “I was asked to deliver this to you. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Haddou blew out a long trail of smoke to the side and took the letter. “You have nothing to apologize for, kid. Good thinking not dropping it off at my office. I’m never going back in there again. What’s your name?”

Still bowing, the girl said, “Rupa van Rossum. It’s nice to meet you, Professor Haddou. I was planning to take it to your office, but I got lucky and ran into Malou before that. She’s the one who recommended we drop it off here. She’s the one who deserves your praise.”

Haddou’s eyes shifted to Malou. “Ran into Malou? That is lucky. Since I wanted a chance to talk to the daughter of my favorite graduate student one last time before I leave this place for good.” She lifted the letter and pinched her face into something that resembled a believable smile. “Thanks for this, Rupa.”

Had Zeynel told Haddou that she wasn’t his messenger anymore? Had he told her what she’d done? But this gave her a chance to ask about the letter. Or, again only in the worst-case scenario, steal it. Though it was really starting to seem like the best option.

Rupa nodded. “Have a good day, professor. And you too, Malou. Thank you for your help today.” She gave Malou another bow as well, then rushed off down the hall.

“Follow me,” Haddou said, turning around. She took another long inhale of her cigar. “And shut the door behind you.”

Malou did as she said, and after removing her shoes in the entryway, ended up sitting beside Haddou on the floor cushions beneath the windows in her living room. While the flat she’d once shared with her mother was open and airy with lofty ceilings and tall windows like the Valois Manor, Haddou’s flat had exposed wood beams, white-washed walls, arched windows and doors framed by brightly patterned tiles.

Haddou tore open the letter’s envelope with a hooked finger. “You pulled quite the trick at my retirement party.”

Malou was almost too focused on Zeynel’s message to process the professor’s words. Was it possible that Haddou knew she’d used magic? Of course, it was. She was a more experienced user. She could even know a method to detect when others used magic around her.

“Don’t play stupid,” Haddou said. She unfolded the paper, read the note, rolled her eyes, and stuffed it back into the envelope. “The only way you could’ve gotten so close to beating me while I was manipulating that round with magic is by also using magic. Your father must’ve taught you. You did well. Not well enough, obviously, but well. Tell me what you did.”

“What does the message say?” Malou asked instead.

Haddou leaned back against the cushions placed against the wall, tossing the envelope on the cushion separating them. “He wants to meet. I’m assuming it’s about the Teir. What else would that man want to talk to me about? Now you need to tell me what you did and also explain why you went this far just to ask me that.”

“Commander Fiorenza Nunziata threatened to come to campus with a team of Sea Legions to take the Teir by force.” Malou’s stomach gave a twist as she reached for the envelope. Saying that aloud sounded much worse than when it’d only been in her head. Zeynel had only written two words:

meet me.

Such a vague message.

Without more information, Malou didn’t know when or where they would meet. There were hundreds of meeting rooms on campus. They could be meeting in any one of those or possibly even their own offices. Maybe they’d talk over dinner, dessert, or afternoon tea.

“And now what about what I asked in the first place? Out with it. Do not make me ask you again.”

Malou took a deep breath and studied her hands. Her father must’ve told her that Haddou had magic for a reason. Now that Haddou already knew she could use it, too, she had nothing to lose. “I imagined the cards that I wanted. All three, actually, but then I didn’t get the right third card.”

“I’d caught you by then, that’s why.” Haddou gave a rough chuckle and tossed a handful of her locs over her shoulder. Apparently, the news that the empire was desperate for the Teir wasn’t news to her, either. “I countered you. You did a good enough job to have overwritten my magic though. What else can you do?”

Zeynel wouldn’t have told her about the conference call already, but if Haddou wasn’t surprised about the treat, then perhaps this wasn’t the first time. A chill ran down Malou’s back.

“Not a lot,” Malou admitted. “But I want to learn more. I don’t know enough.” Not nearly enough to protect the Teir without losing her life like everyone else who tried.

Haddou studied her for a long moment. “Do you have a rank?” She clearly saw the confusion on Malou’s face and didn’t wait for her to answer before asking, “Did Lavrras even teach you how to meditate?”

Malou shook her head, but she remembered seeing him meditate often when she was younger. She’d find him sitting down on the floor in the middle of his study, and no matter how loudly she called his name, he seemed unreachable. Except for one time, after she’d started using magic. She’d touched his shoulder first like she always did, and his eyes had opened so quickly that she’d fallen in shock.

“Seriously?” Haddou groaned. She rubbed her forehead then adjusted the headband holding her locs from her face. “Well, fuck. How much time do you have? We should do this properly, but it’ll take a while.”

“How long?”

Haddou leaned forward to grab a coffee cup with a colorful geometric design from a short wooden stool just to her side. As she took a long drink, the smell of coffee mixed with cinnamon and rum. She set the cup down its saucer with a clink. “Depends on you, mostly. Let’s say Selfday morning for that. But I’ll start by showing you how to eavesdrop on that bastard we both love to hate so much. Meet me in the Room of Antiquities tomorrow right before the dinner hour. I take it you know how to get in?”

Zeynel was meeting with Haddou, the only member of the Blind Collective that Malou knew was still alive, in the room where the Teir was supposed to be safely stored away to talk about the Teir with her. Surely, he was going to ask her to take half with her when she left campus.

But how long would it be safe with her? How long would she be safe with it?